


whisky, tango, foxtrot

by someawkwardprose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Commander Fox Week, Dancing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardprose/pseuds/someawkwardprose
Summary: In which Fox learns to dance, Quinlan fails at wooing, and Cody might be older than Rex, but he's Fox's baby brother. Oh, and there's a wedding.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos, CC-2224 | Cody & CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 41
Kudos: 319





	whisky, tango, foxtrot

**Author's Note:**

> happy fox week fox stans. this fic was like pulling teeth, but my vod'ika and beta crab liked it so you all get to suffer with me. writing something without angst is so out of my comfort zone. I was asked to include my trans clone oc bolt from my fic, diogenes, but other than her I own nothing, please don't sue daddy disney.

It begins, as most things in Fox’s life do, with a bad idea. This time, the bad idea is accompanied by a text. 

_from_ **_shabuir_** ** _:_** i need a favor

Fox gave himself a moment to contemplate how low he had sunk before he answered the comm. 

_to_ **_shabuir_ :** No. 

Barely a moment passed before the comm dinged. This time, he ignored it, and signed his name on yet another form. One of these days, he was going to teach the shinies to forge his signature, and finally get some peace. But then he would still have to sort through what should and shouldn’t be approved - he couldn’t land that on the _vod’ike,_ or they might get themselves into trouble (and drag him down with them). It really wouldn’t be worth it. Perhaps he should invest in a rubber stamp instead. 

The comm chimed again, then again, then another three times in rapid succession, and Fox gave up on dealing with the bureaucratic red tape until he handled whatever the asshole wanted now.

_from_ **_shabuir_ :** foxy pls its important

i’ll owe you big time 

3 whole favors 

i’ll throw in a dinner at dex’s 

and i’ll leave thorn alone 

commander please

He sighed. Vos’ owing him a favour was fairly tempting on its own, but three whole favours? And a promise from the man that he would stop bugging Fox’s second in command about Fox’s eating and sleeping habits? _And_ a meal at Dex’s Diner?

_to_ **_shabuir_ :** What. 

_from_ **_shabuir_** ** _:_** i need you to be my date to ur brothers wedding 

_What._

Fox took a moment to process. He then muted his comm, put it in a drawer, and returned to his datapads.

* * *

Four hours later, Quinlan Vos appeared at his door. 

“No,” Fox said, without looking up from the report he was reading. The war may be over, but that didn’t mean that they'd stopped seeing the results of it. Palpatine’s warmongering schemes were still causing havoc, especially in the outer rims, and much of the _vod’e_ who stayed with the GAR were _still_ dealing with the Trade Federation, except the clankers had been replaced with _diplomats._ Fox wanted to shoot them too, just on principle, but ever since peace was declared, the Senate and Chancellor Organa frowned upon ‘unnecessary violence’. 

“Foxy-” Vos began, but letting Vos speak was a dangerous proposition, so Fox interrupted. 

“Absolutely not. I will not pretend to date you, ever,” he said, and bit down on the urge to say, _because I would rather actually date you._ Because that was a stupid, terrible thought, and really, Fox knew better. 

_He knew better, damn it!_

“Besides, Cody would never believe me, and you know he would tell Kenobi, so this entire charade would be worth nothing, except now your ex-boyfriend would know that you’re that desperate to show you’ve moved on you’d ask someone to pretend to be your date,” Fox continued, signing off the other Commander’s conclusions, before reaching for the next stack of flimsi. “Also, you’d be setting me up to be absolutely humiliated by my little brothers. No thank you.” 

Vos was silent for a few moments, before he grabbed Fox’s sole ‘visitors chair’ - a Senate office requirement, but Fox had made sure to get the most uncomfortable furniture possible in the hopes to deter any such ‘visitors’ - and turned it around, straddling it. His arms crossed where they lay on top of the backrest. Fox’s eye twitched. 

“I just said be my date,” Vos said. “I didn’t say you had to pretend to _date_ me.” 

“The amount of favours you were willing to trade says differently,” he replied, his tone tart. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Vos’ face take on the pleading look that a drunken Kenobi had once called his ‘puppy dog eyes’. They had nothing on Cody’s, but they were pretty damn compelling, and Fox _hated_ them. “Foxy, c’mon. Obes is getting married - I’m happy for him, really, your brother is a great guy - but I _cannot_ be single at his wedding.” 

“If you hadn’t broken up with him because you 'needed a change', you wouldn’t have had to go to your ex-boyfriend’s wedding alone. If you’d been smart about it, it could have been you marrying the man you’ve been obsessed with for half your life,” Fox snapped.

Vos was giving him the ‘kicked puppy’ look now, and Fox felt bad. For approximately two seconds. Then he remembered he’d learned all about Vos’ tragic romance against his will when the man had drunkenly cried upon his shoulder at Cody’s engagement party.

Kenobi really had deserved better. Fox wished his taste in men had improved, but at least Cody was unlikely to make such a rookie mistake, seeing as he was marrying the _jetii_ and all. 

The _look_ amped up, and he sighed. “That was uncalled for. Sorry.” 

Kenobi had wizened up. Fox, unfortunately, hadn’t. 

“Please. You’re the only person who could pull it off,” Vos pleaded. 

“You mean no one else can stand you for long periods,” he replied. 

“I mean you’re my best friend,” the nuisance said. 

“That’s General Secura. Or Kenobi himself,” Fox said, denying two requisitions and making a note to question the quartermaster on the third. The Wolfpack surely couldn’t need that much paint. Or soap. 

“Aayla’s my Padawan, she can’t be my date,” Vos said. 

“She’s going with Bly, isn’t she?” 

“Okay, yes, but not the point. You’re my closest friend, outside the Order,” Vos reasoned. 

"Absolute not," he said firmly. "Like I said, _nothing_ you can promise me is worth dealing with my brothers when they find out.”

The room was silent for a moment. The hair on his neck stood up, and with trepidation, Fox finally looked at Vos. 

Very slowly, Vos smiled. 

It was a nice smile, objectively. Vos had a very pretty face, a face made for smiling. Usually, Fox liked to admire it from a safe distance. This smile, however, had far too many teeth. And a great deal of mischief. 

"No," he blurted out desperately, but it was too late.

"Not even if I tell them about the time with the nautolian?" 

_"There was no nautolian,"_ he hissed. 

"I have pictures that say otherwise." 

"Thorn," Fox said darkly. "Is going to beg for mercy when I'm done with him." 

"What will it be, Commander?" Vos asked, smugly assured that he knew the answer. 

"What will you be wearing? We need to match." 

"That's the spirit!" 

Fox scowled. "You still owe me those favours. So many favours. And stop bugging my men about my health, I can take care of myself. _And_ we keep it quiet until the day of the wedding." 

"Deal," the bastard replied, and stood up, offering Fox his hand. "How about I cash in that dinner now? I bet you haven't eaten today." 

This was a terrible idea, he knew. Even if he ignored what his little brothers were going to do to him. Even if he knew Quinlan wouldn't dress appropriately, and make Fox look bad. It just was a stupid idea all round, especially considering his crush.

Fox reluctantly allowed himself to take the other man's hand.

* * *

Or perhaps it begins six weeks before then, when Cody sat down in Fox’s uncomfortable office chair, a bribe of Alderaanian liquor chocolate in hand, and a frankly preposterous request. 

“Come on, Fox!” Cody wheedled. It was funny, really, that Cody is the - sorry, _was_ the - highest ranking clone in the GAR. Marshall Commander Cody, a high General in all but name, second only to the members of the Jedi Council - and, unfortunately, Fox’s little brother. It’s like he de-aged five years since the war ended, back to squirmy, whiny little _Kote_ who couldn’t do anything without Fox holding his hand. 

“No,” Fox said again, but it’s clear _Kote_ doesn’t care about Fox’s feelings on the matter, because he’d gone and turned the waterworks on. It’s a lot less crying than it used to be, given that _Kote_ is fifteen now, with a boyfriend, sorry, _fiance,_ and a civilian life and five years of trauma under the belt, but it’s just as soft and sad looking, with big wet amber eyes turned on Fox, and a little hint of a pout dancing on his not-quite-trembling bottom lip. Fox should be inured to it by now, but - 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Cody said, and there’s a catch in his voice that is 100% fake, absolutely, Fox _knows_ this. “Please don’t make me go on my own.” 

“I’m sure Kenobi doesn’t give a damn about the first dance,” Fox tried, a little desperately. “It’s not like he doesn’t know that the Kamino education isn’t exactly a finishing school.” 

The pout stuck out a little more. Had Cody’s eyes always been so big? The scar only tugs at his heartstrings more, reminding him that he hadn’t protected his little brother. “He loves to dance. He hasn’t, not since the war started. Our wedding is supposed to be about _us,_ but so far it’s been _vod’e_ traditions only.” 

Damn it. “And you can’t just go yourself?” 

“Fox,” the eyes are turned up to the max, now. 

“Fine! Dancing classes it is,” Fox acquesies, because he is a weak man and Cody has always been his favourite, even if he’s a little _shit._

That night Cody picks him up on his brand new _personal_ speeder, cheerfully yapping on about flower arrangements and buffet choices. Fox made sure to grab the box of chocolates before he goes. 

* * *

Or perhaps it begins even before then, during the long war, when Quinlan Vos had to make nice with the Coruscant Guard to investigate a suspicious death. 

Perhaps it begins when he decided to tease the Commander because he was bored - ending in the longest verbal volley he had exchanged since Obi-Wan Kenobi had left Coruscant. Perhaps it begins when Fox and Vos are forced to work together, once, twice, six times, until eventually Vos would just send Fox a comm asking to meet at Dex’s. 

Perhaps it begins when Fox notices the darkness creeping into Vos' eyes, and is the only person to ask if he was alright. 

Perhaps it begins when Vos pauses, and makes the choice to answer honestly. 

But for the sake of the story, it begins for Fox when he realised that he had developed the terrible affliction that was feelings at his baby brother’s engagement party. 

Unfortunately, that realisation came alongside a healthy dose of reality, as Quinlan Vos sobbed into his shoulder about watching his ex-lover prepare to marry Fox’s little brother. 

“This family is so karking incestuous,” he grumbled to himself, hauling a barely-conscious Vos towards the waiting speeder cab. General Secura, who was almost as drunk as her Master and had been happily sucking face with Fox’s _other_ little brother for the past twenty minutes, broke the kiss to give him a measured look. Bly, on the other hand, seemed to be taking the chance to breathe.

Fox would feel uncomfortable, but he was almost certain she wouldn’t remember this in the morning. 

Quinlan was just - ugh. Awful and infuriating and terrible. He wouldn’t stop interrupting Fox’s work, insisted on bringing him food, and bribed Fox’s minions to deliver said food. Once, he had even kidnapped Fox from his office, forced him into bed, and sat on him until he slept! Of course, Fox had been injured and exhausted and ended up sleeping for fourteen hours, but that was beside the point. Vos was an interfering bastard, and it didn’t matter how pretty, or kind, or funny he was, Fox should really have better taste. 

But, he did not. He finally managed to wrestle the incoherent Jedi into Fox’s own bunk - he could take the floor, just this once, and lord it over Vos’ head for the next few months - he came to four realisations. Vos was handsome, and infuriating, and _exactly_ Fox’s type. And he was madly in love with Fox’s future brother-in-law. 

Fox was, as the kids say, fucked.

* * *

The point was - Fox knew how to dance.

He had learned as Cody’s partner, both leading and following. He’d done all the stupid dips, and twirls, and learned more footwork than he would ever need to. Their teacher had been more demanding than the _Cuy’val Dar_ , but in the end she’d pronounced Cody passable - meaning good - and Fox as decent, promptly asking him for his comm number. 

Once he’d gotten over the mortification, he’d become rather proud of himself. He wouldn’t be telling anyone, of course not - but. 

Spending time with his _vod’ika_ had been fun. He’d laughed more during their sessions than he had during the entirety of the war, and it had been nice to feel as though he had a place in his brother’s life, even now, when Cody was a grown up and too old to ask for Fox to come and fix all his problems.

Now, he knew how to dance. He’d even had a dancing partner foisted upon him. If that dancing partner happened to be the Jedi he’d found himself occasionally daydreaming about, well, that could be a bonus or a detractor, he hadn’t decided yet. 

He had his new red suit tailored, and he knew he could dance in it. 

He was actually sort of, almost, looking forward to Cody’s wedding. And that’s when the problems started. 

* * *

“Fox!” Cody’s smile could have lit up the whole room, and despite his best efforts, Fox had to respond in kind as his _vod_ pulled him into a hug. “I’m getting married!” 

“I hope this isn’t news to you,” he said mildly, pulling back to give his little brother a once over. He looked good in his dress greys, there was no arguing that, but Cody’s experiments with civilian fashions after the war showed that Cody looked good in _a lot._ His wedding suit was no different. “Gold accents? A little ostentatious when marrying a Jedi, don’t you think?” 

But really, what made Cody truly handsome at that moment was the sheer happiness radiating off of his little brother. 

“I couldn’t wear the blue of his lightsaber, Rex might get uppity,” Cody said, and from the back of the room Fox could hear an indignant _hey!_

“You look good, _vod’ika,”_ Fox said, ignoring the stinging in his eyes, and the rough quality of his voice. “Vicious little _Kote,_ settled by domesticity.” 

“Shut up,” Cody murmured without heat, and dragged an unresisting Fox into a _mirshmure'cya._

_“Ni javor’la gar, Kote,”_ he managed, and it doesn’t even kill him to admit it. 

“Thank you, _ori’vod,”_ Cody murmured, and released him. “Front row, yeah?” 

“Always. I’ll even put up with Wolffe for you,” he said, and resisted the urge to give him a noogie by checking his comm.

Still nothing from Quinlan, damnit. He was going to be late at this rate. 

“Better get you in your place,” he told the room at large. 

Cody took a deep breath, and let Rex guide him towards the stage area. Fox watched him go with a hint of sadness. His brother was a big boy now, but he would always be the cadet who would sneak into Fox’s bunk to ask for stories. When he turned, he could see the same bittersweet nostalgia on Wolffe’s face. 

He nudged his _vod_ companionably with his shoulder, and steered Wolffe towards the front row of seating, where Bly (and his General), Bolt (and her _riduur,_ because of course Cody couldn’t beat her there), and four empty seats. By unspoken agreement, Wolffe left a seat between himself and Bolt, and Fox took the second to last. Perhaps it was a little superstitious, but if an afterlife truly existed, they knew that Ponds wouldn’t miss this for the world. 

He checked his comm again. The screen stayed stubbornly blank. 

He told himself he wasn’t upset. He was annoyed for Kenobi, who loved Quinlan still, even if it was different from how he used to feel. He was annoyed he’d been stood up. He’d been looking forward to dancing. 

Fox tucked his comm away as the music started, and reminded himself it was Cody’s day. He hadn’t really cared about being Vos' date anyway.

* * *

He’d enjoyed the service anyway. Unlike Wolffe, he hadn’t cried when Cody said his personalised vows, but he’d been pretty damn close. He’d laughed at the way that Cody had been so anxious he’d told the officiant that he would take Kenobi before the zeltron had even asked. He’d clapped when Kenobi smiled, ignored the officiant, and kissed Cody without waiting. He’d joined in when Bly wolf-whistled after Cody had dipped his newly-pronounced husband. 

As the reception started - as he’d gone to give the newlyweds his congratulations, Kenobi had murmured: “Quinlan was pulled into a last minute mission. He wasn’t even given time to tell me - Mace had to let me know.” 

That had made him feel a little better as the night wore on, but after the meal, after the first dance, when everyone had split off into their own little groups, well - 

It was Cody’s wedding, and Fox had come alone. 

He wasn’t the only one, of course. Wolffe had forgone a date out of a lack of interest, and little Rex had been too shy to admit he wanted to ask his General and Senator (although they’d certainly commandeered him as soon as the reception started). But Bly had his arm around _his_ General, and Bolt was spinning around the floor with her _riduur._ Even Wolffe had found some companionship, happily leaning into his _buir_ with what would be called a smile on anyone else. 

Cody’s eyes hadn’t left his _jetii_ since the ceremony. The earlier dramatics, the dips and the twirls, had been replaced by gentle swaying as the happy couple smiled at one another, exchanging gentle kisses. The last he’d seen, Cody’s General - _riduur,_ now - had laid his head on Cody’s shoulder. 

Fox was happy for his _vod’ika._ Of course he was. He’d watched little _Kote_ with the lisp who climbed into Fox’s bed and asked for stories grow up into the most powerful _vod_ in the GAR; one of its most decorated veterans. He no longer needed Fox’s arm around his shoulder, and it had been a long time since he’d asked for a story before he went to sleep. 

If, sometimes, Fox missed being taller than Cody; if he missed Cody’s missing R’s, and hissed S’s...well. That was Fox’s problem, and Fox’s alone 

If Fox missed the days when all his _vod’e_ were around; when no-one would be left alone; when Ponds was around to call him names and pull him out of his shell - well, that was just another thing he needed to deal with. 

Maybe he should try going on a date. Get Quinlan out of his system. Unlike his _vod’e_ , he hadn’t had a General during the war - which appeared to be the main mode through which his more romantically inclined siblings had fallen in love. 

Maybe if he’d had a Jedi, it would be different. Then again, Vos had been the closest thing he’d _had_ to a Jedi. 

He had no idea what civvies did to meet potential partners; hell, he had no idea how the general public made friends. Fox had always just had his _vod’e,_ and more specifically, his batchmates. Rex had been Cody’s tag-along that Fox had grown attached to, much like a stray cat that came begging for food. Thire, Stone, and Thorn had all just...happened to him, as his direct subordinates. 

He leaned back in his seat, and wondered if it would be worth getting another drink, or if he could just bail now. Cody wouldn’t notice, he was sure, with the way he was wrapped around his husband - but Wolffe would, eventually, and so would Bolt, and then there would be hell to pay. 

Damn Quinlan Vos.

Fox had just about decided that he’d take the tongue lashing when a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Sorry I’m late,” Quinlan Vos said, a smirk on his face. His dreads were pulled neatly away from his face with gold ribbon, and he wore sleeveless Jedi robes that were practically identical to his daywear, except they were black. He looked damn good, a fact that Fox was having trouble ignoring. 

_Speak of the Sith, and one shall appear_ , Cody had once told him with a wry smile. Fox wondered if it applied to their Jedi counterparts, or if Vos’ almost sojourn to the other side was the cause. 

“And what time do you call this?” Fox asked, but obligingly kicked out the chair beside him so he could sit down. 

Vos shook his head. “No, I can’t - I have to go see Obes; I just wanted to come over and apologise first,” he said, and his voice was sincere, and guilty. “I really am sorry. I didn’t want to stand you up. I think Yoda was trying to punish Obi-Wan for choosing Cody over the Code - but you don’t care about that, do you? Sorry. Again.”

Fox tried not to feel warmed by the fact that Quinlan had decided to apologise to him first; and tried to hide the fondness he couldn’t avoid at Quinlan’s uncharacteristic rambling. 

“Go apologise to my brother-in-law,” he said, tapping his foot against Vos’ shin. “I was gonna head back to the barracks anyway.” 

“It’s only nine,” Vos said. “You must be getting old, Foxy.” 

Fox snorted. Some days he felt like it. “Just tired.”

Vos’ lips twisted, an expression there and gone again before Fox could read it. “Look, Fox, wait around for a little while longer - come with me to see Obi-Wan. Ten minutes, tops.” 

He hesitated, but there was something in Vos’ - Quinlan’s, really - eyes that made him accept the offered hand up, hoping that Quinlan would be kind enough to ignore what he picked up from the skin contact. 

“Obes!” Quinlan called. The happy couple had stopped dancing for the moment, back at their table - Cody had Rex in a headlock, and Kenobi was laughing at the pair, but he turned with a grin on his face when he heard the voice. 

“Quin! You made it!” 

There was a discombobulating moment where Kenobi threw himself at Quinlan and Fox had to move out of the way lest he get hit by a wayward limb, and Cody let go of Rex to drag him into a hug. “Fox! Fox, I’m married! I’m Cody Kenobi!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Fox said, but he was smiling. “I saw the ceremony, remember?” 

“I’m married,” Cody repeated, face flushed with happiness. And perhaps alcohol, judging by the many empty glasses behind him. That would explain Kenobi’s enthusiasm too. 

“Yeah, you are,” he said fondly, ruffling his little brothers hair. Rex gave him a nod over Cody’s shoulder, before taking the opportunity to escape - probably back to his General - leaving Fox with an armful of soppy Cody. He rolled his eyes, but patted Cody on the back anyway. 

“You haven’t danced all night,” Cody said suddenly.

“Didn’t have a dance partner,” Fox said. 

“You should dance with me.”

“Don’t you have a husband for that, now?” 

Cody shook his head. “No - I mean, yes. But there’s an old Naboo wedding ceremony Senator Amidala told me about. The parents dance.” 

“Well if you’re gonna resurrect Fett-” 

“No, _utreekov,”_ Cody said with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t have a _buir,_ but - I’ve got you.” 

Fox blinked. 

_“Kote-”_

“Please?” 

Fox swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, ignoring the suspicious roughness of his voice. “Yeah, okay.” 

Cody grinned widely, eyes bright, tugging him towards the dance floor, and someone wolf-whistled - probably Bly, knowing him. Fox ignored that, and raised his eyebrow at his _vod’ika_ as he signalled to the lead musician - a 212th brother, Fox was fairly sure. The music started up, and Fox rolled his eyes. It was a little faster than usual, but: “The foxtrot, _Kote?”_

“Well, it does have your name,” Cody shot back with a smirk. 

“Well, I suppose that means I ought to lead,” Fox said, and moved his arms into position. 

“Don’t forget to twirl me extra hard,” Cody laughed. “It is my wedding, after all.” 

It was quite possibly the worst dance they’d had since the first class they’d taken. Cody’s laughter made him miss steps, and Fox did his best to trip his brother up. Cody spun around dramatically with every twirl, making them miss the beat, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that his little brother was married; and while Rex may have been his best man, Fox would always be his _ori’vod._

Fox felt choked up at the thought, and pulled Cody into a hug. 

Cody patted his back, gently. “Love you too, Fox.”

They swayed together for a minute, and over Cody’s shoulder Fox could see Kenobi and Quinlan talking. Bickering, really, as Kenobi gestured broadly at Fox and Cody, and Quinlan made a face. Kenobi rolled his eyes, and headed towards them. Fox gently disentagled from his _vod’ika_ as Kenobi reached them, and Kenobi offered him a kind smile even as he turned soft eyes onto Cody. “Might I steal my husband back for a while, Commander?” 

“Only if you’ll call me Fox, sir,” he said, and let go of Cody completely. 

“In that case, drop the sir. We’re _aliit_ now, aren’t we?” 

Fox smiled back, but before the pair could walk off, he called them back. “Sir - Obi-Wan? You better look after my brother. I’ve still got half an army at my disposal.” 

Obi-Wan threw his head back and laughed, even as Cody shot him a rude gesture and dragged his husband away. 

Fox was so caught up in watching them that he barely noticed Quinlan come to stand beside him. Quinlan’s face was a mirror of what Fox presumed his own was, but unlike Fox he didn’t appear to be watching the newlyweds. Something in him sparked when he realised that Quinlan was looking at _him._

“May I have this dance?” Quinlan asked. “Before you go home.” 

Fox looked at his outstretched hand. The band music had slowed down and morphed into a waltz, and couples surrounded them. Wolffe was jokingly twirling his _buir_ around, while Rex found himself being passed between Skywalker and Amidala. Bolt was with her _riduur,_ and Bly was with his not-quite _venriduur._

“Yeah, okay,” he said, and took it. “You’re only leading because you’re tall.” 

“Got it,” Quinlan said, and the quirk of his mouth wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t a smirk anyway. 

Quinlan was a surprisingly good dancer - but then again, Ken- Obi-Wan, would have had to practise with someone. Fox viciously stamped down on the jealously that thought inspired, well aware that Quinlan’s hands were dangerous even without a weapon in them, but he couldn’t help but remind himself that Obi-Wan had moved on, while Quinlan hadn’t. 

“Is that what you think?” Quinlan asked, and Fox started, guilty and embarassed. “You think I’m -” 

“You told me yourself,” Fox interrupted. When Quinlan looked blank, he rolled his eyes, neatly avoiding a less practised couple. “At the engagement party. I already knew that you liked him, but you said -” 

Quinlan groaned, and broke position to drop his head on Fox’s shoulder, and Fox stopped moving, confused. “Iwantedtomakeyoujealous,” he said quickly.

“What?” Fox asked, because -

“I wanted to make you jealous,” Quinlan said slower, lifting his head. “It was stupid, but in my defense, I was drunk, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.” 

Fox stared at him, bemused. “Why in hells name would you want to make me jealous?” 

Quinlan threw his hands up, narrowly avoiding another couple, and Fox shoved at him until they stepped off the dancefloor. “Because you were flirting with everyone except me!”

_“What?”_

“You flirted with the bartender -” 

“I was being nice,” Fox said. “He had to work while we were celebrating!” 

Quinlan continued, oblivious: “You flirted with Master Fisto -” 

“He wanted to thank me for finding his new Padawan when she got lost at the market,” he replied, exasperated. 

“-and Senator Organa!” 

“Okay, yes, but he’s happily married - it’s just how we talk to each other,” Fox said, and rolled his eyes. “For crying out loud - tell me if you don’t want this,” 

He grabbed the collar of Quinlan’s robes, pulled him down, and kissed him. It took a moment - long enough that Fox was just about to release Quinlan - before he got with the program, but when he did, his hands found their way into Fox’s hair, cradling the back of his head. Fox moaned, cupping the back of Quinlan’s neck, his other hand still fisted tightly in his robes. 

They broke apart when they heard a wolf-whistle. 

“Damn, let the man breathe Fox!” Bly called, clapping. General Secura looked both pleased and embarrassed - Maker, he’d just kissed her Master in front of her - while Cody and his _riduur_ were watching them with pleased smiles on their faces. Fox narrowed his eyes at them, but promptly got distracted as he turned back to Quinlan, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

“Was that okay?” he asked, a little worried.

Quinlan blinked. “Foxy. Please do that to me for the rest of my life.” 

“How about we try a proper dinner first,” Fox suggested, linking his fingers with Quinlan’s and projecting his emotions for the first time. “Instead of you tricking me into spending time with you. Why couldn’t you just ask me to be your date like a normal person?” 

“You uh, caught that then?” 

“When I had all the facts, yes,” Fox said. “You’re an idiot, we could have been doing that for _months.”_

“I’m seeing that now, yes,” Quinlan said. “I suppose I have to thank Obes for telling me to ask you to dance. And to ask you to be my date.” 

“Do you now,” Fox said absently, glaring at his brother and brother-in-law out of the corner of his eye. “Well, I don’t think I really got a dance, there. I think you should take me on a proper whirl around the floor.” 

“Do you now?” Quinlan asked, then smirked. “I think that can be arranged.”

Without any further ado, Fox was dipped and kissed within an inch of his life.

He was pretty distracted after that, but he was sure he heard Obi-Wan saying: “I think we are getting shown up at our own wedding, my dear.” 

* * *

The story ends like this: 

“Did you arranged to set me up with Quin at your own wedding?” Fox asked a smirking Cody, three days after he returned from his honeymoon.

Cody shrugged, his eyes on his padd. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure you don’t. Just like my brother-in-law didn’t know anything about you making me come with you to dancing lessons, or told Quinlan I would want to dance with him.” 

“Really, I just wanted to get you in touching distance - I had no idea that you would be so forward,” Cody said casually, then he looks up with his stupid soft eyes. “I just want you to be happy, _vod._ You deserve it.” 

“Fuck you,” Fox says, but Cody is his brother, so what he really hears is _thank you._

“You’re welcome,” Cody says, and Fox throws the box of chocolates at him as he leaves. “Don’t forget Dex’s tonight!” 

* * *

Or perhaps, it ends how it began: with a text. 

_from_ **_shabuir <3: _ **obes set me up?? 

_to_ **_shabuir <3: _ **Told you. 

_from_ **_shabuir <3: _ **that conniving bastard im so proud

_to_ **_shabuir <3: _ **I’ll be there in ten minutes. Try not to make my brother kill you before I get there. 

_from_ **_shabuir <3: _ **i ordered u the special xxx

_to_ **_shabuir <3: _ **No, I will not share a milkshake with you, get your own. 

_from_ **_shabuir <3: _ **:( 

Fox sighed as he tidied away his desk, and shouted a goodnight to Thorn. 

_to_ **_shabuir <3: _ **Fine. I hope Cody kills you.

_from_ **_shabuir <3: _ **!!! ily xoxo

He smiled as he tucked away his comm and hailed the air cab. He wasn’t _quite_ at that stage yet, but Fox was certain he wasn’t very far off. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

**Author's Note:**

> mando'a, which is all from memory but I learned it from mando.org and robinplaystrumpet15:  
> shabuir - an insult, apparently a stronger ‘jerk’, (but as buir means parent...it's motherfucker)  
> vod - sibling  
> vod'e - siblings  
> vod’ike - younger clones, little siblings  
> vod’ika - little sibling  
> Kote - glory; name headcanon borrowed from @captaingondolin on tumblr  
> Ni javor’la gar - I’m proud on you  
> ori’vod - big sibling  
> utreekov - lit. empty headed, aka an idiot.


End file.
